


Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da life goes on

by SambliongPalpatine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, I’m bad at tagging, M/M, Other Characters - Freeform, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-08-23 02:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16609823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SambliongPalpatine/pseuds/SambliongPalpatine
Summary: 5+1 Times they cry alone and 2 they cry together.





	1. Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Well I finally finished this hehe this little fic I had started a while ago. Even if I ship Robb/Jon I’ve shipped Jaime snd Robb since forever.  
> Now, the tag should say 10+2 hohoho because well, it’s 5 times for each of them but anyway, technicallities...

 

 

The first time it happens, Jaime is 8 and his mother just passed away while giving birth to his baby brother.

 

His father locked himself inside the room with his beloved wife and Cersei screams in outrage and pain, gibbering about the little monster they have for a brother, he has to be a monster if he took their mother’s life. And to make matters worse, he suffers from dwarfism. Through all of this Jaime doesn’t cry. He just stands there with his twin wrapped in his arms, staring at the white wall in front of him and the smell of sickness permeating the air; doesn’t matter how thorough the cleaning is.

 

His father comes out of the room, stoned-faced, totake them home. They don’t say anything as they walk to the car, there is no mood for anything.

 

“We aren’t keeping him, are we father?” his sister asks, once they are on their way back home,dead serious and with no more tears. She is sitting close to Jaime, their hands touching by the pinkies but not holding.

 

Their father takes so long to answer that Cersei is starting to get annoyed and pouting in that way she does when their father doesn’t comply to one of her caprices.

 

When Jaime is starting to think the man would not answer at all, he surprises him. “He is a Lannister,” he only says.

 

Cersei sets her jaw and pulls her hand away from his in order to fold her arms tightly against her chest.

 

The rest of the drive goes by in a tense and uncomfortable silence. Cersei looking out the window with her hair covering her face, clenching her jaw nearly making her teeth clattering. Their father driving faster than he usually does but not fast enough to make him worry.

And Jaime, well Jaime bites his lip almost drawing blood, taking the pain it inflicted gratefully.

 

He won’t cry, not while they are in the car, at least. His father has always taught him he shouldn’t cry, that’s a sign of weakness only reserved for girls and women. The times he has seen Cersei cry can be count with a hand. His mother often joked about the fact that his twin was far less whiny than him, that he must have strong lungs because he knew how to wail. Until that time when his father glared at him and told him to stop being a princess and then he never cried again. Not in public, anyway.

 

Tywin only nods at them to climb down the car and then speeds away to the Gods know where. Cersei huffs and flips her hair back before walking towards the house. Jaime stays there, staring at the smoke left behind by the car. In a zombie-like state he walks back inside, too, wanting nothing else but to slump somewhere inside his room and cry his heart and lungs out.

 

  * He locks the door behind him and lets himself fall to the ground, curling into himself and thinks about his mother’s smile, her warmth and loving hugs. About how she used to sing him that Beatles’ song when he was sad, how did it go? Oh, right. Ob la di, Ob la da, life goes on... and indeed life goes on. 



Life went on after his grandmother died. Life went on after his best friend Bronn died of pneumonia. Life went on after his parakeet died. And life will go on now that his mom has died.

 

No more pancakes, no more cuddling at night while reading a book, no more games and laughter. No more warmth.

 

“Ob la di, Ob la da life goes on...” he sings. 

 

And then he cries.

 

 

 

Robb

 

Robb is 8 when his aunt Lyanna dies in a car crash and his cousin Jon falls into a coma. His dad and uncle Benjen are stoned-faced as they listen to what the doctor has to say about his cousin’s condition. His mother is sitting in the chair outside the room but she doesn’t look as grim as the other adults do.He’s never understood the dislike his mother has for Jon, she’s always looked at him with contempt and took every chance she got to avoid his coming to visit them at home. Robb loves Jon, loves spending time with him and play with little Sansa, despite his mother’s chagrin.

 

His little heart is beating a mile per minute and hiseyes are prickling with unshed tears but he bits his lip to make it stop wobbling critically, he never cries in front of people, despite him being only 8.

 

When the doctor finishes speaking, his father walks towards them, sighing he starts explaining. “They don’t know when he’ll wake up, the damage to his spine was severe and they can only hope and wait to see if he survives the night and then see if the surgery worked,” he sighs again and rubs a hand over his face, looking exhausted.

 

“What’s gonna happen to him when he wakes up?” Robb asks; in a small voice.

 

His dad smiles at him. “Well, he will come live with us.”

 

Catelyn freezes and turn to looks murderously at her husband before standing up and strauting away without saying anything.

 

His dad just sighs and rub his face again, uncle Benjen comes to sit next to him and placing his hands on Ned’s shoulders in a comforting gesture. Robb says he has to use the restroom and sort of runs there.

 

His heart is pounding against his ribs and his breathing comes harsher maybe he is even panicking a little. He barges into the toilet and all but throws up, he is sure he’s going to vomit his insides themselves if he tries hard enough.

 

Afterwards he slumps against the stool’s wall, heaving and not being able to hold back his tears anymore. This is just his luck, isn’t it? First he threw his insides out and now he cries his lungs out. Wait, probably he’s going to cry his eyes out, as well.

 

His aunt Lyanna is dead. Jon is in a coma. He just lost one member of his family and he might lose another soon and his mother is angry with his dad because Jon might come to live with them. If he survives, that is.

 

He rubs furiously at his eyes, trying to quench his tears away. But then again, he is alone and he has to vent this out.

 

No one has to know about his breakdown. He will just cry it out and then go back to his family.He loved his aunt and it hurts knowing he’ll never see her again.

 

Before he can give his grief free reign, he hears noise coming from outside so he bites his lip and holds back his tears until he is sure the noise is getting farther instead of coming nearer.

 

And so he goes on crying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, sorry this took so long; lost some fics and I had to rewrite them. So I apologize if this chapter sucks, next ones will be better, I promise.

 

 

Sickness

 

Jaime is 13 when he finds himself back in the same hospital as five years ago, same room number but this time it is for someone else. This time is when hisbrother Tyrion gets ill. Ill enough that he has to be hospitalized.

 

Cersei is sitting on one of the chairs at the waiting room as if she were sitting on the Iron Throne and was bored by her subjects’ requests. His father is sitting next to her, sternly looking in his Hugo Boss suit as they waited for the doctor’s diagnosis.

 

Jaime, however, is all jittery, biting his nails because he is nervous and pouring anxiety because he, contrary to his twin and father, cares about little Tyrion and doesn’t want him to die.

 

The doctor comes out of the room, worried frown in place, while he reads the chart in his hands. He comes to a stop in front of them and clears his throat as he lowers said chart and looks at his father. “Mr. Lannister, I have the results of some of your son’s tests and I’m afraid the prognosis is not that positive,” he starts.

 

Cersei chirps at that and turns her scowling face away from the wailing baby a few chairs away and speaks, barely concealing her hope. “So is he finally going to die?”

 

The doctor stares at her blankly, Jaime shoots daggers at her and their father just sighs and turns to look back at the medic. “Don’t mind my daughter, please continue,” the man motions with his hand for the doctor to proceed.

 

The man nods and takes off where he left it. “As I was saying, the bacteria has infected some of his internal organs,” he gives them a pitiful look before sighing tiredly. “If he survives the night then he will make a full recovery. Be reassured we are doing everything in our power but there’s only so much we can do,” he smiles apologetically before excusing himself.

 

Cersei huffs and stands up, brushing her skirt. “I’ll go to the cafeteria,” she says before strutting away.

 

Tywin looks down at his watch and speaks without turning to look at Jaime. “I have to go back to the office so if you plan on visiting your brother, I suggest you do it now,” he says in that monotone voice of his.

 

Jaime nods and stands up walking towards the room his brother’s in. His heart falls when he sees his baby brother’s tiny body hooked to scary, beeping machines and his eyes are closed and bruised. Jaime swallows the lump in his throat and takes the remaining steps between him and the bed.

 

He carefully takes his brother’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Hey little brother,” he starts, taking a deep breath and trying to keep his voice from wavering. “I know you’re probably thinking you have no reason to fight but-“ he has to stop talking again because his voice does start wavering and he’s afraid he might start crying.

 

He lets go of the hand he’s holding long enough to pull the chair closer to sit and then takes the hand again. “I know father and Cersei aren’t the best with you but... I love you, little brother so you can’t leave me,” he pleads in a whisper. 

 

He hears steps outside and before anyone can come in and witness him in this state, he stands up quickly and goes barricade himself in the bathroom. He curls inside the shower and just breathes.

 

Voices he guesses are the doctor and some nurses come muffled from the other room, they are saying something about the fever and him still not waking up.

 

He never thought he’d feel pain as deep as the one he felt when his mother died but now he isn’t that sure.He loves his brother and doesn’t want him to die; he is scarily smart for a five-year old and Jaime likes that. He also promised his mother a promise the day they buried her; he promised he’d take care of Tyrion and treat him as he deserved to be treated, even when his father and Cersei doesn’t. 

 

So Jaime does the only thing he can, and wants to do, he cries.

 

—

 

Robb is 13 when he finds himself back in the same hospital as five years ago. This time is becausehis little brother, Rickon, gets seriously ill.

 

His mother has her hands over her face, his father has an arm around her shoulders as he pulled her against his chest and his uncle is frowning to the floor after the doctor told them about Rickon’s situation. Robb is just standing there, leaning against the wall and his arms wrapped around himself because his mother didn’t allow Jon to come with them so Robb doesn’t have anyone there to hold him.

 

His parents rush inside the room when they have the doctors clearing and his uncle goes to get a coffee, leaving Robb alone in the hallway with only his misery, sadness and worry by company.

 

Robb slides down the wall and curls against a corner, letting his tears fall because there was no crying in front of his parents. 

 

There js a person cleaning a room near where he js huddle, trying not to sob so loud in order not to attract attention, a song vfilters through the ajar door and the upbeat rhythm and John Lennon’s voice and for some reason it makes Robb smile through his tears.

 

Ob-la di, ob-la da life goes on...

 

 

He supposes it’s true; life went on after his aunt died after all. Life would go on if his baby brother died but contrary to that time, he wouldn’t recover as easy. He is 13 and he feels his heart breaking a little more. So he just cries.

 

 


	3. Heartbreak

5 Times they cry alone and 2 they cried together.

 

Heartbreak

 

Jaime is 18 when his father announces Cersei’s marriage to the brute of a man of Robert Baratheon and Jaime feels like screaming.

 

Cersei and him have indulge in incest, or love in his case, since they were 12 and he feels his heart breaking with the prospect of not having his twin near every day.

 

Jaime paces his sister’s room as if he were trying to make a hole on the floor while Cersei just sits there, bored, inspecting her fingernails

 

. “Will you be done soon? I have things to do,” she says absentmindedly.

 

Jaime stops abruptly and turns to face her, not really understanding how can she be so calm about this whole situation. “Why aren’t you upset about this?” he asks.

 

She sighs as if she were preparing to explain something for the umpteenth time to a child. “Because I’m not. I’ve always known father would marry me into one of high society’s families. And what better than a Baratheon,” she says.

 

“But-but what about us?” he can’t help but ask.

 

Cersei sighs exasperatedly and stands up, she walks towards him and pats his cheek. “Oh my silly, silly brother. We can still do this, even if I am married,” she shrugs it off and steps away. “I’m not marrying Robert out of love or desire after all,” she says before throwing a wink at him.

 

Jaime just stands there, gapping like an idiot because he wishes he could say that he’s a better person than he really is. He wishes he could act all shocked as if he had morals. But he can’t because he has no morals when it comes to this. “But you will be swearing fealty,” he stupidly says.

 

His sister stares at him unimpressed before smiling sarcastically. “Oh please, don’t tell me that would deter you,” she snorts and goes to open the door. “Don’t fret your pretty little head, brother,” and she walks out the room.

 

Jaime wants to believe in Cersei’s words. And even when he also wants to believe that the distance will help him fall out of love with her, he knows it won’t happen, he knows he is in too deep now, knows she has him wrapped around her little finger. He knows he would do whatever she asks of him, he will do whatever he can to be near her.

 

Because he knows, deep down, that he would accept the scrapes of love and attention Cersei gives him, and if he loses his heart on the process doesn’t matter because he loves her. At least he likes to think he does.

 

So he locks himself in his room with a tube of strawberry ice-cream (because that’s how clichéd he is) and gets comfortable on his bay-window.

 

“Ob-la di, ob-la da, life goes on...” he sing-whispers before scooping a spoonful of ice-cream and watches his tears splash against the pink-ish goodness.

 

And indeed, life goes on. With or without parents. With or without friends.

 

With or without love.

 

-

 

Robb.

 

Robb is 18 and his girlfriend just told him she’s going back home.

 

Back to freaking Jordan. Like, forgive Robb’s poor geographical knowledge, but isn’t Jordan in like... Asia?

 

Gods. Robb doesn’t know what to do. He’s been pacing the length of his room for the past... whatever long it has been. Because after two and a half years of dating you’d think you deserve something more than a phone-call to tell you the person is leaving and therefore you’re through.

 

Is that all he meant to her? He thought they were in love and happy, they even talked about marriage after Uni. But apparently Jeyne had other plans.

 

Robb slams his head against his door and takes deep breaths, trying to will the tears away.

 

This is just the last drop to his already more than full glass. First his father told him he had to go into Law, ‘you are a Stark, Robb. You are my eldest son, you have to inherit the Firm after I retire,’ so his dreams of becoming a Chef flew out the window. Then his mother gave Jon an ultimatum about him finally moving out. Then Theon all but tried to make a pass on him and when Robb rejected him the guy started screaming and crying and promtly left the house and hasn’t given any sign that he’s still alive.

 

And now this. This is just the last little push the damn to his emotions was waiting for to finally break.

 

So Robb slides down the door to end sprawled on the floor and breaks down into quiet but soul-wrenching sobs; curling into a fetal position so he can hold his body through the shaking. 

 

Objectively, he knows his heart will be okay but right now the void is so wide he isn’t sure his band-aids can hold the edges together.

 

For now, in the privacy of his room, he allows the wound to bleed.


	4. Memories

.1

 

Memories

 

Robb is 23 and his parents and younger brother just died in a car crash.

 

Frozen roads and a weak bridge. Forensics said that if asphyxiation hadn’t killed them, they would have died of hypothermia.

 

They died leaving Robb, at frigging 23,as the responsible for three younger siblings and the Law firm. He hasn’t even finished University so thanks the gods for his uncle Benjen and Jon. 

 

Because even though his mother kicked Jon out at 18, his brother still cares and has never lost contact with their younger sibilings. Well, only with Sansa but that was to be expected, she never liked Jon much. And Jon has come to accept that fact, though Robb knows it still hurts.

 

The funeral was a tiresome ordeal; arranging everything, call the people one has to call, convince the siblings to go to the graveyard, avoid callsyou don’t want to take, endure people’s condolences and all the other parafernalia. 

 

Sansa is a mess, of course. Her eyes are all red and puffy and cries all through the funeral. Arya,bless her, is holding her own with her small hand clasped in Jon’s with a white-knuckled grip. Bran is just.., there, stoically sitting on his chair with a faraway look.

 

Robbdoesn’t understand why the majority of assistants are there in the first place. Like the Lannister’s. Tywin at least knows how to behave, as does Jaime, contrary to Cersei who’s trying to hide a smile and her bastard of a son who has a smirk in display. Robb still can’t believe Sansa was head over heels for the guy when she was younger.

 

So as soon as it’s all over he scurries away. So now he is here, sitting on the bench in a part of the graveyard that’s mostly unoccupied; there’s a lot of green, trees and flowers scattered around. He still marvels at the beautiful life growing in this place that’s made to house the dead for the rest of their immortal lives. Birds are chirping and a soft, cool breeze is blowing, making the branches on the trees rustle gently and Robb feels oddly at peace despite his sorrow and the constriction in his heart.

 

Robb sighs and rubs his face tiredly, his eyes sting and his throat is hoarse, his bones hurt... his body is generally weary and feels like sleeping forever and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

 

But alas, life doesn’t work like that. Life doesn’t wait for anybody, life goes on and one day, when you least expect it, it stops to slap you in the face and say ‘oi, stupid. Your time’s up, I’ve come to collect,’ and oh, Robb does want to live.

 

But his parents and younger brother just died so cut him some slack. Because damn, how can one pick up the pieces the death of someone you love left scattered?

 

“You’ll learn to live with it,” a voice speaks from somewhere behind him.

 

He doesn’t turn to look at whomever it is that has come looking. “Yeah? With what would I learn to live with?” he asks quietly.

 

“The pain,” the person answers, coming to sit next to him.

 

Jaime.

 

Robb huffs. “I cannot see how, it just- it just hurts too much,” his voice breaks a little and he cringes at the thought of breaking down in front of this man.

 

Jaime sighs. “My mom died when I was 8 years old. Twenty-nine years later and I still feel the same pain. So I truly know what I’m talking about when I say that you learn to live with it,” he says neutrally.

 

They stay in silence while Robb mulls this over and he also tries to control his shaking and his breaking voice.

 

“How do you do it?” he finally asks, softly.

 

Jaime takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. “You take it one day at a time. Some days are easier than others and in those bad days remembering the ones we’ve lost helps “ he speaks equally as soft.

 

Robb smiles a little, the first real one in days and somehow he feels the pain lessen somewhat. “Thank you, Lannister.”

 

“Anytime, Stark,” he returns the small smile.

 

What Jaime doesn’t say is that his mother’s 30th anniversary is that same day.

 

-

 

1 year later

 

Robb is sitting in the same bench of last year; the grass is still as green, the flowers still as pretty and the birds still as chirpy. Even the pain is still the same, well not really. Jaime was right; the pain got manageable after some time but today... today is their anniversary and it hurts.

 

This last year hasn’t been easy. He finally graduated and was thus able to start working with his family’s Law firm, god, Robb never thought it’d be so much work. Specially when he’s never enjoyed burocracy that much.

 

It’s been more difficult for Sansa to get back on her feet and Robb has tried to be there for her as much as he can but still, he feels as if his head were to explode more often than not.

 

“Hey, mom,” he hears a familiar voice speak from somewhere nearby. “It’s been 31 years, huh?” the voice breaks a little at the end. “I’ve never stopped missing you, you know? Specially not when I have that song you used to sing wired in my brain,” a wet chuckle interrupts the speech. “Sometimes I feel so alone, you know? Father just cares about politics and the family’s future and Cersei is more concerned with catching her husband cheating and with where is she going to send Joffrey to college next year that I rarely see her anymore,” he sighs and remains quiet. So quiet that Robb thinks he might be gone already.

 

Robb takes a deep breath and stands up to start walking towards the exit but stops when he sees Jaime Lannister sitting on a bench like the one he was just sitting on. He has his head on his hands and he looks as if he were shaking, Robb’s heart clenches at the sight.

 

He approaches the other man slowly, as if trying not to scare a wild animal and turns to look at the tombstone, swallowing when he sees the name of Jaime’s mother.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks quietly, as he sits down next to him.

 

Jaime doesn’t answer right away; he inhales and exhales a few times, obviously trying to get himself into control but his voice is still a little shaky when he speaks. “You had just lost your parents and youngest brother, it didn’t seemed like the right time to tell you ‘oh by the way, today’s my mother’s death anniversary’ don’t you think?” he gives Robb a sideways look.

 

Robb stays silent for a moment as he thinks. “Tell me about her,” he asks, turning to look at him with what he hopes is a soft look.

 

Jaime smiles softly. “She used to sing me Beatles’ songs whenever I was sad and let me ate strawberry ice-cream to my heart’s content,” he laughs a little breathy, fond laugh.“Cersei was always following Father around but I,” he swallows hard and then clears his throat. “I was always more attached to my mom,” he tries to inconspicuously sniffle, as tears have started to fall.

 

Robb’s own tears have started to fall as well so he inhales deeply and then lets it go slowly. “I was always more attached to my dad, when I was little he would always let me sit on his lap and we’d listen to his old records. I loved it,” he chuckles a wetly and sniffles. “Specially after Jon came to live with us, we’d follow dad around and ignore the contempt looks my mother used to throw his way. She was always very stric with us, she never smiled much but she always took care of us, even Jon,” he finishes in a thread of voice.

 

The silence falls upon them, somehow having someone sharing the pain makes it more bearable. They just sit there, letting their tears roll down as they each relive precious memories of their parted loved ones.

 

“Ob-la di, ob-la da,” the man next to him singsongs in a whisper.

 

“... life goes on,” he sings in an equal whisper.

 

They simultaneously turn to stare at each other and they are both smiling. So Robb simply takes Jaime’s left hand and squeezes. The fact that the Lannister returns it makes something break inside of him.

 

Neither of them has cried in front of anybody, not when they were younger and not as adults. Until today they have shed their tears and pain in silence so now that they have shared this; their vulnerability, something they can relate with the other, they feel less alone.

 

And maybe, for now, that is enough.

 

 

 


	5. Impotence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning: there’s vague mention of torture, I don’t know if it’s enough to make it a proper warning. 
> 
> Anyway, my life’s shit right now so I deleted the next chapter and re-wrote if so now it’s a sad one.

 

 

4- Impotence

 

Jaime

 

Jaime is 31 years old when he is kidnaped by a group oposing his father’s political measures.

 

He’s taken by force from his office in the afternoon, after nearly all the employees have gone home. He always stays a bit longer in order to proof read and make the pertinent corrections to some contracts or some of his father’s speeches. Supposedly the building is as secure as the Pentagon but oh well, who really knows?

 

After all, if it were, the man holding the bare wires pointed at his feet that are submerged in water wouldn’t be standing there.They have been electrocuting him for the last six hours, not a fun business if he must say.

 

His bitten through his tongue so badly it’s gone numb by now. These people are relentlessso they probably will continue torturing him to their heart’s content.

 

He is tired, his body is weary and mostly a giant blister that hurts even when he breathes. Tears are prickling at the corners of his eyes but he refuses to let them fall, not in front of these people.

 

“Is... electricity... the best you’ve,.. got?” he pants, plastering a smirk, a show of false bravado.

 

The black-haired man standing in front of him gives him a cruel smirk and chuckles delighted."Oh pretty boy, believe me when I say that this is merely a warmup," he winks at him before walking away. "You just wait and see."

 

Now that he’s alone he still refuses to let his tears fall, not yet. He is sure his father has people looking for him and they’ll find him really soon and he’ll be back in safety before he can blink.These guys haven’t communicated with his father and they haven’t told him what they want him for.

 

So he gets as comfortable as he can while sitting on a wooden chair and handcuffed, and closes his eyes.He knows he’s not going to be able to sleep but he can concentrate and think about more pleasant things. 

 

Like Cersei; all sleepy and beautiful with her hair disheveled and hikeys on her neck. Or the conversations he’s had with Tyrion and how they can tease each other and try their best sarcasm on each other and how they would always end up with a smile.

 

He thinks about his mother teaching him how to dance and how she’d taught him to love music and strawberry ice-cream and how she would hug and comfort him after his father reprimanded him. "Hey mom," he whispers with a broken chuckle. "It seems like I’d be seeing you sooner than I had thought," he sniffles and swallows hard. "I wish I could say I died staring Death in the face and without fear but truth is I am terrified. I don’t know what these men are capable of but something tells me they won’t stop- I’m scared there’s nothing left of me for you to recognize.,. I’m sorry, mom. I’m sorry for disappointing you, the only thing I can say now is that I tried," he swallows the sob that threatens to escape because not yet, damnit.

 

But throughout the fog of his thoughts, one makes its way to the front; unexpected, out-of-the-blue but, in all honesty, not unwanted. Thoughts of certain auburn-haired, blue-eyed boy that crashed into his life one day when he least expected.

 

He’s met Ned Stark’s family before but he never payed much attention to the children, seeing as they could be his own kids.So he never expected to meet the oldest, Robb, at the party some of the Law firms organized together.

 

He is attractive; a perfect mixture of his parents’ best physical attributes and a specially pretty smile. He looked stunning that day, with that charcoql tailored suit and hair combed back. Jaime felt himself instantly drawn to him.

 

As the night progressed, he had felt that pull evolve to pure and unadulterated attraction. The more he talked with the Stark, the more he realized how truly sharp his young mind was, he found himself wishing the night could go on forever. With time, Robb Stark would become an extraordinary man, he had after all, his mother’s determination and intelligence and his father’s honor and care for truth and what is right.

 

Now, tied to this chair and with no more hope, he wishes he could have lived long enough to see the Stark boy become the man he is meant to be and to maybe have had one more conversation with him.

 

But Jaime is a realist, if by some miracle he manages to get out of here alive there’s no guarantee that he would see Robb again. But because he is a realist, he knows he won’t make it out of here.

 

“Is sad, innit?” his torturer taunts. He is straddling the chair, his arms folded on the backrest and he has a bright smile plastered on his face.

 

“What is?” he asks, following the other’s game, completely ignoring the blood trickling down his face.

 

“Dying alone. Knowing life will go on as normal without you. Knowing the last thing you’ll see will be my smiling face,” he winks, the fucker, while he twirls a butcher’s knife as if it were a lollipop stick.

 

Jaime tries to shrugs as best he can. “It doesn’t really matter, I will be dead. I won’t mind anymore,” he answers, trying to seem nonchalant.

 

Somehow that answer seems to be the wrong one because the man gets up and pushes the chair away angrily, the object crashing on the wall with a loud ‘bang.’

 

“Now that I think of it,” he starts, thoughtfully slapping his cheek with the flat of the knife. “There are worse fates than dying,” he says with a manic grin.

 

 

Three days later, when they finally find him; jaded beyond repair, with more scars and short of a right hand, he breathes in relief.

 

When his sister goes to see him at the hospital with pity and disgust on her beautiful face and tells him he took too long, that he was too late, before leaving the room he wished he hadn’t made it out of that hellhole.

 

Still, he doesn’t cry.

 

The day Tyrion tells him Robb Stark had an accident while visiting his uncle in London and the doctors actually don’t know if he’s going to survive or not, that day he finally cries.

 

He curls on his bed and burrows his face in his pillow and lets go. “Ob-la di, ob-la da. Life goes on,” he sing-whispers brokenly.

 

 

Robb

 

Robb is 21 when he has the accident that would change his life. The accident that wouldend up in a month-long coma, two months of amnesia and six of rehab for his leg. The pain however, would be for life.

 

The Lannisters send their regards the person had said before running him over with their car, Robb doesn’t remember details. Even more, he remember nothing at first, barely remembers his name and where he is.

 

The doctors poke at his brain every other day and the nurses change his bandages but they tell him nothing, they want to see if the information would come to him. People that say to be his family come to visit him but he has no recollection of them and he sort of feels guilty when the woman leaves the room, crying.

 

His tibia is broken in three parts, he has enough broken ribs that if he were to brake one more he would probably fall apart. He has a major concussion and he’s undergone surgery because he had a collapsed lung and some shitload of other wounds.

 

Enough to have his mothe crying on his bedside, his father’s worried looks, his uncle’s pitying ones. He thinks he should feel crushed, be devastated at not remembering anything but if he’s being honest, he would say it feels freeing. It’s as if he were given a cleah slate.

 

Not all of his siblings are allowed to visit him in hospital but they have written ‘get well’ cards and send balloons and photos of all of them together to see if it helps him remember. Jon, who said is his brother and visits him when the adults are gone, tells him stories about their childhood; some hilarious and others not so much but they are still heartwarming.

 

Nothing helps him remember, though. 

 

 

And yet... he doesn’t cry. He feels impotent, of course, at not being able to do anything to soothe his family, or himself, and at not being able to heal faster.To remember faster.

 

When the news of Jaime’s kidnapping all his memories slam back home, leaving Robb gasping and with such heartache that he’s grateful he is already hospitalized.

 

His mother leaves the room, muttering curses and trying to hide how much the fact that a Lannister made him remember hurt her. His dad smiles wanly and pats him carefully on the shoulder before going behind her. Robb is left there; feeling guilty about not feeling guilty.

 

And then his memories of the accident come back and he remembers the culprit’s words, those subtly implying words about the Lannisters being the ones behind his accident. Now that’s a different story, that brings the tears back.

 

Because he still remembers that night, two years ago, when he spent the night talking with Jaime and how much he had enjoyed it.He’d liked Tywin Lannister’s son and he had thought the man reciprocated. He was different from his twin, less... shallow and smart, also funny. He never thought-

 

The worst part is that he can’t help but still like the man because life is unfair like that.

 

If half of his body wasn’t bound and if he hadn’t a trillion machines hooked to him, he would curled on the bed and cry. So he contents himself with burrowing his face in his pillow.

 

"Ob-la di, ob-la da," he sings brokenly, "life goes on. "

 

And cries.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here you finally have it. It is as if I had cut myself open for all of you to see.

 

Jaime

 

Jaime knew this wouldn’t last. He’s 36 years old and he’s been in a relationship with Robb Stark for two years and he’s always known it wouldn’t last.

 

His sister made sure of that. She’s a hateful woman and so is he, hateful that is.And even though he is trully in love with Robb, Cersei has the ability to snare him back to her. And him, as the idiot he is, always falls in her trap.

 

Robb had been granted the scholarship he wanted inAmerica and had proposed Jaime came with him. He was so excited about it, going to another country and continue exploring his thing with the Stark and help him along. Away from everything and everyone and just be the two of them, meeting new people and just be happy.

 

Until Cersei fucked it all up. As she often does.

 

So now he is here, outside Robb’s apartment about to break both their hearts because he rather do it now and do it himself than wait more time and give his sister the chance to do more damage.

 

Jaime rests his forehead against the wall and takes deep breaths, trying to calm himself and get his heartbeat to slow down. He has to do this, for Robb’s own good, despite his own heartbreak. Robb deserves so much more, someone... whole.

 

(No, he’s not talking about his hand. Or not entirely).

 

Robb has shown him a side of life he didn’t know existed, he has loved him despite himself and has been with him through his good days and nightmares and he never lowered his head whenever Tywin taunted him. No, he braved it all. For him, for Jaime.

 

 

And now he is about to take the cowards way out because he doesn’t want to risk seeing the hate on Robb’s face after- he wouldn’t survive it if it were Robb the one to leave him. He’s not strong like that.

 

But Robb is. He is young, smart and talented and gorgeous and funny and... well, it won’t be hard for him to find someone else, someone better, and move on. Maybe have a family and hopefully be happy.

 

Maybe regard Jaime as a fond memory, after his heartbreak has healed. Maybe,,, 

 

He knows he has to go inside eventually, there’s no point in delaying the inevitablebut a small part of him still hopes that if he waits enough some miracle might happen and he would be able to keep this, keep Robb, as silly as that sounds.

 

Jaime takes a deep breath and straightens himself before finally taking the key Robb had given him and opens the door quickly.

 

No going back now.

 

Robb is in his bedroom, dancing around to that Metallica’s cover of a fantastic song, Jaime could never understand why someone would prefer this cover to the original. For him Thin Lizzy is always going to be better.

 

He pauses on the doorway and just observes him dance around while sorting things out from the pile on his bed. He smiles fondly at the sight,remembering a time when he would dance with him, laughing at each other and just being generally happy.

 

“I see I couldn’t persuade you that the original song is better,” he says, nonchalantly leaning against the doorway.

 

“Jesus!” the boy yelps in surprise, turning around with a hand dramatically placed over his heart. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he smiles brightly.

 

Robb walks towards him; wearing his oversized Metallica shirt and the grey pants that are a bit too long on him and his auburn hair all messed up and Jaime’s never found him more beautiful.

 

Robb wraps his arms around the Lannister’s neck, pressing a kiss to his lips. Jaime’s heart constricts but he still wraps his own around Robb’s waist as he returns the kiss.

 

“I’m sorry, little wolf, didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispers against his lips.

 

“It’s okay, I’m glad you’re finally here,” he says, placing another quick kiss to Jaime’s lips.“Packing alone is boring,” he winks as he pulls away and going back to rumage through his wardrobe to pull clothing items out and putting them in his suitcase.

 

His a Lannister, lying should be easier to him, right? But he is finding it hard to find the words, which is a bit odd because even when he isn’t like Tyrion, he is usually not bad with words. But they don’t say there’s a first time for everything just because.

 

“Robb, I-“ he clears his throat awkwardly and takes a step further into the room. “I need to talk to you about something important,” he starts seriously. 

 

Robb stops his ministrations and frowns worriedly at him. “What is it, Jaime? Are you alright?” he asks, adopting Jaime’s serious tone.

 

Jaime sighs and goes to sit on the bed, feeling defeated already without even having spoken a word yet. “No, actually I’m not,” he starts by being honest.

 

Robb moves to sit next to him, placing a hand on Jaime’s leg in a comforting manner. “Why? What happened?” he asks softly.

 

Jaime swallows nervously and just rips the bandaid off. “I can’t go with you to America, Robb,” he says, earnestness in his voice.

 

Robb’s face falls a little but still remains seated next to him. “Why?” his voice quivers a little. “If you can’t make it on that date we can arrange-“

 

But Jaime interrupts him before he could go on breaking his heart a little more. “No, Robb. I can’t go. My sister-“ he swallows uncomfortably because admitting that the rumors of incest are true isn’t something easy.“We- it’s all true.And I- I love her,” he finally finishes in a whisper.

 

Robb stares at him, blue eyes wide and shinning with tears and his lips parted. “W-what?” he stutters out.

 

“I’m sorry Robb, this is goodbye,” he pushes out. “I’m staying here. With her,” a tear rolls down his cheek. “She’s a hateful woman and we’re twins after all. So I am just as hateful,” he says and then leans in to kiss him one last time as he places the key on his hand. He then gets up and exits the apartment quickly without looking back.

 

He escapes, leaving his heart back inside that place in the hands of that beautiful auburn-haired boy with the bluest eyes filled with tears and his heart broken behind them, illusions shattered. And Jaime knows those won’t get glued back together, not even with time.

 

But still...

 

Ob-la di, ob-la da. Life goes on.

And yeah, it does. Doesn’t matter if you just ripped your heart out alongside the one of the person you love most dearly. 

 

He doesn’t hear Robb calling him back, doesn’t hear him say ‘I love you’ over and over again. He doesn’t hear him promise he won’t listen to the Metallica cover ever again, if he comes back he will only listen to the original. He doesn’t hear him break down in sobs: doesn’t hear him cry and doesn’t hear him pick himself back up.

 

And then, for a fleeting moment it is as if he’s heard him when they both sing the song that now separates them before Robb closes the lid of his case and gets ready to, as life does, go on.

 

“Ob-la di, ob-la da. Life goes on.”

 


End file.
